The Loneliest Man in the Universe
by Hay Bails
Summary: In which the Doctor experiences loss of the greatest kind. (A general warning for the masses - this is a study in male pregnancy.)


The Doctor fell against Donna, feeling profoundly empty.

He clutched the stillborn child to him like a lifeline.

Donna had the grace to say nothing. She pulled the Doctor's head to her shoulder, feeling his aching muscles still clenching against her hand.

The water in the birthing pool swirled red around them.

For a moment the Doctor was perfectly still. Then, with one long, low wail, he began to sob against Donna's shoulder. She squeezed him comfortingly, and with her free hand gently brushed his matted hair off of his forehead. His body shuddered, and a moment later Donna could see the placenta floating about a foot away from them. She grimaced, suddenly nauseated, and closed her eyes as the Doctor continued to cry against her.

The TARDIS was emitting a plaintive keening to rival that of her thief. She dimmed the lights respectfully. After a few moments, something solid bumped softly against Donna's shoulder. She opened one eye and saw that it was a box.

The box was exquisitely carved from a wood she had no name for, with Gallifreyan symbols written like clockwork around its edges. It floated, bobbing lightly in the pool. Donna was certain that it had not existed before the Doctor went into labor.

She looked up at the ceiling of the TARDIS, silently asking if she had sent the box. She had. An image of a funeral procession passed fleetingly through Donna's mind.

Donna sighed, and put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

"Doctor…" she said quietly. He was still weeping uncontrollably. She traced gentle circles on his skin with her thumb. "Doctor, the TARDIS has sent us something," she whispered to him.

He looked up, saw the box, and immediately closed his eyes, screaming. "No! No, no no no!" He held the stillborn baby to him, unwilling to accept this outcome.

Donna said nothing, but continued to rub his shoulder gently. She made no move to take the baby from him. This would have to be his decision.

He buried his face in Donna's shoulder, sobbing. After a minute or two, he looked up, gazing at the child in his arms. It was grey, and cold, and very, very still. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to it. "My beautiful little girl," he said, face scrunching up.

Donna petted his shoulder, feeling incredibly helpless.

The Doctor took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then with great care, he placed the child's still form into the wooden box. Tears continued to stream unchecked down his cheeks as he stroked the baby's face once, twice. He withdrew his hand and then, with a grimace, retrieved the afterbirth from the pool and placed it in the box as well.

Donna watched as the box began to glow with a warm, golden light. The Doctor, between sobs, began to speak a solemn chant in what Donna thought was Gallifreyan. It was quite short, and when it ended, he reluctantly pushed the little box away from them, toward the center of the pool, where it glowed more intensely.

Donna watched it, enraptured, until the Doctor put a hand over her eyes. She felt, rather than saw, the little box as it exploded in light.

The Doctor removed his hand from Donna's eyes as soon as all the light particles had settled back into a visible pattern in the water. They swirled around the two time travelers like little stars.

The Doctor slumped against Donna, still crying. "I'm so sorry… so… sorry…" he was muttering. She gathered his shaking frame into her arms.

"Sh," she whispered to him, holding him close to her. "Hush, Doctor. Let's go get you cleaned up," she said tenderly. He nodded his consent.

Painfully slowly, she helped him out of the birthing pool. His legs shook, and he leaned heavily on her as she walked him out of the room. She guided him into the washroom next door, and lowered him gently onto the floor of the walk-in shower. He curled miserably against the wall as Donna turned the knob. A smooth stream of clean, cool water flowed from the faucet.

Donna took a small white washrag and cup that had been placed on the counter next to the shower. She filled the cup, and slowly poured it out over the Doctor's shoulders, rubbing soothingly with the rag. He shivered as his muscles began to relax. She repeated this process several times, then began to rinse the sweat from his hair. He whimpered softly as her fingers massaged his scalp, still crying.

"It's all right," she whispered to him. "Just let it out." She continued to wash his hair until it was clean. Once she was satisfied that he was sufficiently bathed, she quickly rinsed herself off, then shut off the tap.

She stood and retrieved two towels, one of which she set on the counter. The other she wrapped around the Doctor's shoulders. "Come on, love," she said, pulling him up gradually. He leaned against the wall, still shaking, as she rubbed the towel over his body. Once he was dry, she toweled his hair, which proceeded to stick up in every direction. It would have been funny, in another situation.

She grabbed the other towel and dried herself off as quickly as she could. He watched blankly, holding himself up against the wall. When she finished, she took his arm and placed it around her shoulders, wrapping her own arm around his lower back. She walked him back out into the hallway, half-carrying his naked form. They made their way slowly into his room.

She sat him gently on the bed, walked to the closet, and found his favorite set of pyjamas, the ones with the bananas embroidered into the flannel. She brought them over to where he sat, head hanging.

"Here, love," she encouraged softly, standing him up once more and working him into his banana pants. She sat him down a final time and put his shirt on, buttoning it for him. He continued to cry quietly.

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Hang tight for one minute," she said, then stood and walked back to the closet, where the TARDIS had laid out a set of her own pyjamas. She mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the ship, and dressed hurriedly. She then moved back to the bed and sat beside the Doctor, wrapping her arms around him.

The Doctor mumbled something.

"What's that, love?" Donna rubbed his shoulder encouragingly.

He sniffed. "It's not _fair,_" he cried plaintively, voice cracking.

"Oh, honey," she said, tightening her arms around him.

"All I want," he said, and stopped, hiccoughing.

"What do you want, love?"  
"All I want is… is s-someone like me," he said in broken tones. "And I finally… g-got her. And now she's… s-she's…"

Donna caught him once more as he fell against her, sobbing heavily into her shoulder. She sighed, tears leaking from her own eyes; tears for the loneliest man in the universe.

"I'm here for you, Doctor," she whispered softly in his ear as she rocked him to sleep against her chest. But really, she knew it wasn't true.


End file.
